


Into the Gray

by muse_of_mbaku



Series: Into the Gray [1]
Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Female Character of Color, Fluff, Spy M'Baku, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-04 09:13:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15838236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muse_of_mbaku/pseuds/muse_of_mbaku
Summary: (Spy!Baku)M’Baku and Muse are partners in more ways than one. Muse is his eyes and ears, helping him protect the Jabari and Wakanda as a whole via stealth missions where finesse is more advantageous than brawn. She’s also the love of his life, the one who got away and the one M’Baku is intent on recapturing.





	1. Chapter 1

The train seemed to bounce on the tracks and Muse’s fingers did the same along the keys of the thin laptop balanced on the tray table in front of her. Trains may not be the most efficient way to travel, but there was something to be said about a mobile office that made it hard to pin her down. Most times, when she was eluding someone, it was easier to avoid detection at airports and bus stations. For whatever reason, trains were usually the last place people checked for her. Except this time, she wasn’t exactly running. She was simply taking the time to clear her mind and making her way from Oakland to New York via the rails gave her more than enough hours to do so. M’Baku had arranged for her return to Wakanda from there. That was the only concession she’d been willing to make. 

Muse’s fingers paused as the crest of a mountain broke through a patch of trees outside the large window of her sleeper car. It reminded her of home. The snowcap was brilliantly white against the sky, the slate rock of the massive outcropping dotted with snow here and there. Her heart pulsed for Jabari land. It had been years since she’d been. Part of that had been very much tied to her work and the need for mystery and distance. Even the safety of the man she loved. The other had most certainly been due to the relationship she and M’Baku could never get quite right. 

They’d danced around each other as friends for years. Muse being the rising assistant to the Jabari communications director and M’Baku as the newest ruler of his people had worked side by side until their friendly jabs had morphed into late nights in each other’s offices and early mornings in each other’s beds. But the two of them, on paths that were parallel and diverging, couldn’t quite figure out the logistics of being there for each other. Muse had pushed away the hurt in M’Baku’s eyes when she took more and more assignments away from home in response to his growing council role. And he’d tried his best to tamp down his anger when she’d eventually left Wakanda altogether for a life full of wanderlust. It hadn’t worked and two years passed before the heat of their collective anger had cooled enough to even speak. 

The kimoyo beads on Muse’s wrist vibrated softly, pulling her attention from the document on her screen. A wayward flick of her index finger brought M’Baku’s hologram to life before her. She sighed inwardly. The sight of the man never failed to do something to her. He smiled brightly at her, all of their homeland stretched out behind his throne. 

“My love,” he greeted. The words sounded like sugar on this tongue. “You’ve made it safely onto your train?”

Muse cleared her throat. “I have. We’re about halfway through the journey. To what do I owe this honor, my lord?” 

M’Baku tutted, a robust laugh breaking free from his chest. “Such formality, Muse. I was simply checking on the welfare of the woman whose arrival I am anxiously awaiting.” 

“Then why don’t you come over and say hello? You’re terrible at hiding.” The sarcasm was thick. 

M’Baku’s hologram dissipated and in a split second there was a hearty knock on her cabin door. She moved to unlock it. The pocket door slid away to reveal the very large and very handsome man who’d broken his one promise to her. He’d shown up when she’d expressly told him not to. 

“You have the most difficult time listening, don’t you?” Muse scolded as she moved back to her seat and gestured for him to take one of his own. 

He shrugged. “I missed you.”

“Not my problem. You promised.” Muse didn’t broach a look at him. Instead she busied herself stowing away her laptop and the bevy of other gadgets she used in her work. 

“How did you determine I was here? I thought my background cloaking was nearly perfect.” 

“Old tech as Shuri would say. She’s outfitted me with things you couldn’t imagine. The simplest of those devices being one able to pinpoint other Wakandan tech. You stood out like a sore thumb the minute you set foot on this train.”

Muse smirked at the frustration that crossed his face. “Besides, it’s Friday and you never do business in the throne room on Fridays. You’re slipping in your old age,” she joked. 

M’Baku growled and before long the two of them had devolved into laughter.

“That’s why I love you. You keep me on my toes.”

Muse’s smile faltered. 

“You do not wish for me to love you? Nor to express that?” he queried.

Muse took a moment to contemplate. “It’s not that at all, Bak. It’s just new.”

“New? We have years…” he began before being interrupted.

“Had years. This iteration of us, if that’s what you can call it, is new. You have to respect that.”

M’Baku grunted and turned his attention to the span of mountains passing alongside the tracks. 

“You’re angry at me now?” Muse asked as she glued her gaze to the side of his face. “Unbelievable! You break your promise and now you’re mad at me!” 

M’Baku didn’t respond. 

“Such a child,” she muttered as silence descended onto the cabin. If he was going to ignore her, then she was going to do the same. 

***

Over the years, Muse had become accustomed to the subtle vibration of her kimoyo beads even when they weren’t on her wrist. Most times she would silence them within the first two cycles, but this night was different. She was banded to the very solid man behind her by one powerful arm. How she’d to come to be wrapped in his arms and he’d managed to fold his bulk into the Murphy bed in the sleeper car was beyond her, but he had and up until that moment Muse had been sleeping better than she had in weeks. Maybe even years. Still, she managed to slide her body away from his, noting the pout that formed on his lips when she did. Gathering the beads into her palm, she tapped the notification on the hologram and quickly dimmed it in lieu of a pair of glasses that would make the transmission for her eyes only. It wasn’t just the light waking M’Baku she was worried about. Something was afoot. 

Muse made note of the blinking icons on the screen dancing before her eyes. Four of them, each a piece of stolen Wakandan tech she knew well. Too well if she was honest. Her fingers drifted to the hairline scar directly behind her ear. A memory, hot and painful shot through her. 

_The blood was making her fingers slick, made it hard to depress the button to unlock the pressurized door of the second of her most secure hiding places. The blood was also making her weak and as each second slipped by, she felt the edges of her vision darkening. She tried to bolster herself by remembering that she was almost done with her mission. And if she could just make it inside she could summon help. Home wouldn’t be too long after that. She was just so tired. Her knees buckled and she used the wall to support herself, both hands to steady the fob in her fingers. This time the button moved, the hiss of the door opening a lullaby as it closed behind her._

Muse shuddered and tried to blank her mind. The Noir Group was near and she wasn’t surprised. She’d thought she had a little more time before she would have to give up her peaceful journey, but she was wrong. She threw a glance over her shoulder at M’Baku. He was still sleeping, now turned towards the wall. She said a silent thanks for his new position as she stuffed her feet into a pair of black sneakers, shimmied a pair of leggings onto her hips, and tugged a long sleeve tee over her head. She slid a thin taser into her back pocket and slid the kimoyo beads onto her wrist before moving quietly from the room. The hallway outside the car was empty, the only sound the clacking lull of the train on the tracks. Muse took a moment to gather her bearings, the glasses now switching to a scanning mode that provided a wealth of information. For now, she was safe. For how long? She couldn’t be certain. What she could be sure of was that if Noir found her with M’Baku his life was in peril and that she could not abide. Muse cursed him for showing up. She hadn’t been sure just how she was going to dodge the people after her, but she would have figured it out before New York. Now she was going to have to leave him behind again until the coast was clear.

***  
M’Baku knew Muse was gone even before his eyes opened. At first, he figured she was simply using the restroom or quenching her thirst, but when the space beside him grew cooler and cooler he knew something was wrong. He unfolded himself from the tiny bed and swept his eyes over the room. Beads gone. Glasses gone. Shoes not by the door. Everything else was in place, but that gave M’Baku no comfort. Muse knew how to move and she knew how disappear. She packed light and lived free. At least this new Muse did. His Muse had loved home and all it offered. The shards of their relationship had cut her ties to the Jabari and for the last few years she’d drifted. He had every intention on tying her down in more ways than one. 

M’Baku rolled his neck to crack it and did the same to his shoulders. Tapping the beads on his wrist he attempted to call Muse with no response. Annoyance reared its head as he tried a second and a third time. The fourth time her beads were disconnected and M’Baku’s anger exploded. Something was wrong. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, allow himself to believe that their reunion in Oakland had been a fluke nor would he let himself believe her anger at his broken promise was enough to send her running again. No, his Muse was hiding and he needed to know why. 

Quickly dressing, M’Baku stepped into the nearly silent corridor. Save a few crew members strolling the aisles, mostly everyone was dozing or lost in their own worlds. He was at a loss. She wouldn’t pick up and by the time he searched every car of the train she could be harmed or even gone. He tapped a bead lightly, hoping this time his call connected. 

“This better be good,” the irritated voice in his earpiece snarled.

“I apologize, but this is important.”

He listened to Shuri huff and puff for a moment. “What is it?”

“Muse. I need you to track her for me.”

“I will not. I happen to know she told you to meet her in New York. Per my calculations, she’s not scheduled to be there for another two days.” 

M’Baku checked a growl. “We’ll talk about that later. Right now, her beads are off and I can’t locate her. Something is wrong. I know it.”

The hesitation on the other end of the line seemed to stretch on forever. “How do you know that? Maybe she simply doesn’t want to talk to you.” 

“I know. I can feel it. Please.” 

M’Baku hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until Shuri started to speak again.

“She’s still on the train. I’m tracking the taser she has on her. The glasses, too. I’d say she’s about three cars from you.”

“Thank you…”

“But she’s not alone. She’s being pursued.” 

Everything in M’Baku stilled. “By who?”

“The Noir Group if I’m correct.”

“And they are?” He tried to keep the panic out of his voice.

Shuri sighed. “The ones who nearly killed her.”

The rest of her words were lost on M’Baku as he raced towards the coordinates on his wrist, feverishly praying to all he believed in that he would make it in time.


	2. Chapter 2

Muse’s breathing was paced even if her heart was racing. She’d made it three cars into her escape before the telltale signature of Wakandan tech flashed across her eyes. There were three of them moving rapidly, one stationary, and one several cars back. She assumed the final blip was M’Baku, which was exactly what she did not want. Muse pressed the button to slide the door to the next train car open and shot through it. She tried to walk normally, to draw as little attention as possible but if she didn’t get a move on they’d be on her heels in minutes. She flicked her eyes quickly across the screen floating before her line of sight, wiping the hard drive and cloud storage of the sleeping laptop in her room and transferring money to accounts she could access in this part of the country. With a final set of eye movements, she texted a quick message to M’Baku.

_Don’t follow me. I’ll be in touch. I love you._

She could only hope the stubborn man would listen. Her heart knew he would not. Muse felt the lurch of the train starting to slow and said a thanks to the heavens. This was her chance. She stole a quick glance behind her and saw the figures of the three men who’d been tasked with bringing her to their leader for the last year. She wasn’t going to go willingly. Sliding the taser from her pocket, she pressed her back to the door of the final car and waited for it to slide open once the train was at a complete stop. She knew the gravel beside the tracks would hurt, but she’d still be alive, right? _A simple fall backwards and a tuck and roll should do_ , she convinced herself.

The first of the figures reached her, a stocky man with a shock of curls always pulled tightly at the nape of his neck.

“Muse, we’ve been trying to find you,” he sneered.

“I didn’t want to be found.” She gave his sarcasm back in measure.

He stepped towards her, a hand outstretched to grip her arm. Muse’s lips curled in disgust and she jerked away. The train was almost at a standstill. Just a few more seconds.

“How many times do we need to play this game?” He cocked his head to the side. “We always find you.”

“But you never catch me,” she shot back just as the train stopped all movement. She jammed the button to open the door and threw the taser at the same time. It landed between the three of them, an arc of voltage shooting from the tiny device. She watched the jerk of their bodies before she let herself fall backwards off the train, tucking into herself before rising to her feet and taking off into the darkness.

The gravel had dug into her hands and knees and she knew by the time she reached any measure of safety that there would be blood to clean and wounds to tend, but she was still alive. Muse let out a jubilant whoop that quickly turned to trepidation. She had no idea where she was and the glasses were starting to short out after taking damage from the fall. She tapped them lightly trying to get at least a general idea, but it was to no avail. Her fingers shot to her wrist for her beads. Still there. She pondered whether or not turning them on would be the best idea. She knew the moment she did M’Baku would come after her full force. All she could think about was being responsible for anything happening to him. Muse couldn’t have that on her head or her heart.

Rubbing her arms, Muse took note of the cold around her and recognized she needed to move and move quickly. She took off into the darkness towards the lights on the horizon.

***  
With each step, M’Baku’s long strides brought him closer to the trio of men in front of him. Only one of them had spared a backwards glance at him once he’d started his pursuit. When he’d made his way into the second car in his search for Muse, he’d heard her name among their conversation and instinct kicked in. He’d started tailing them at a distance, but when their paces picked up he knew they were trying to catch her before they lost her, too. Then it hadn’t mattered who knew that he was following. That only increased his fear and his anger. The men weren’t concerned with stealth. They were worried about getting to her before anyone else. To M’Baku that meant only one thing. They only needed one shot to kill her or only a moment to make her disappear.

“Muse, what are you into?” he muttered to himself.

He’d known that she funneled information between powerful entities and even served as the eyes and ears of both him and the Udaku clan as needed. But this? He knew this was more than being a simple information hub. He’d have a word with her, T’Challa, and Shuri when he made sure she was safe. M’Baku momentarily lost his balance when the train started to slow. He righted himself and continued on. His mind drifted to Muse and the last time he’d lost her.

_“I don’t understand why you have to leave again. Everything you need is here,” M’Baku hissed at Muse._

_She was doing a good job of ignoring him, tossing clothing and personal effects into a duffle bag and moving about her bedroom as if he wasn’t there._

_“Listen to me!” His fingers curled around her upper arm. He watched her eyes flit to the contact before she twisted away from him. “I’m sorry. Just stay, usana.”_

_“Why? So, I can have forty-eight hours of your time and then I don’t see you until you want inside of me?” she spat out. “You serve your people and your nation. Why can’t I do the same?”_

_M’Baku could read the hurt beneath the anger so he checked his own rising ire. “I want you here, Muse.”_

_“You want me. That’s not the same thing as needing me, Bak. I’m going to be late. I’ll let you know when I get there.”_

_Muse zipped the bag and slung the strap onto her shoulder. He panicked with each step she took towards the door. His mind couldn’t think of a solution quickly enough. He had to stop her._

_“If you leave, don’t come back.” He regretted it as soon as the words hit the air. He watched her pause for the longest of moments before she turned towards him._

_“If that’s what you want,” she whispered as she slipped his ring from her finger and pressed it into his palm._

_M’Baku steeled himself to ignore the tears brimming in her eyes, but it was hard to stop his own from spilling forth._

M’Baku cleared his throat as he tried to shake off the memory. He still needed to right that wrong. He’d just been terrified to lose her. Something in his gut had told him that she was in deeper than what she and the Udakus let on, but he’d lied to himself. Now he knew that inkling had been correct. The final car of the train loomed ahead and M’Baku caught the briefest glimpse of Muse tucking her body against the door before the bulk of the three men closed in around her. He couldn’t make out the words between the parties over the din and clack of the train nor could he see Muse, but he could clearly read the ill intent. He was pressing forward when the compact landing lit with what seemed like lightening and the men dropped to the ground. He spied Muse’s body falling from the train. His heart stopped until he saw her rise and dust herself off.

In the darkness of the open plain he could see she limped slightly when she rose and grimaced as she stretched her body. Before he could make it to the door the train lurched into motion, picking up speed quickly. The insistent vibration of his bracelet caught his attention and he let loose a savage curse at the sight of her message. M’Baku trained his eyes on Muse for as long as he could before the sight of her turned to a blur falling further and further behind.

***  
By the time Muse made her way across the massive expanse of the field she’d fallen into her lungs were burning. She could feel the trickle of blood sticking the fabric of her leggings to her skin and her palms felt as if they were on fire. She was thankful when she finally found the weathered wood of a bus stop bench to collapse onto. Muse wanted to cry, but she couldn’t. At least not until she was tucked away from prying eyes and as far from Noir as she could get. She racked her brain trying to plot her next course of action. Reaching into the waistband of her leggings, she wrapped the tips of her fingers around the slim bank card tucked inside a hidden pocket. She would have given anything to have her bug out bag, but this would have to do. 

Thankful for the small bit of luck, Muse contemplated again turning on her beads and decided she had to risk it. Shuri would understand and buy her some time. It took only moment before the beads lit to life against her brown skin. She dialed quickly. 

“Where are you?!” The panic in Shuri’s voice was crystal clear.

“Get us a secure line. Untraceable.” 

Muse knew her request would be heeded. 

“Secure. Where are you? That man is losing his mind. My brother and N’Jadaka are on their way to intercept the train.”

“Shit! This is between me and you, right?” she pleaded, hoping the young woman knew why she needed to disappear. “Please, Shuri. I can’t risk his life.” 

There was a pause and then a hum of affirmation. “I understand. I’ll help you get to safety, but you have to tell him.”

“I know, but they’re too close and we both know he’s not going to let me fight alone. I trust T’Challa and N’Jadaka will know nothing of my whereabouts as well?” 

“They won’t, but Muse? If I get even the slightest hint you’re in more danger than you already are I’m bringing in everyone. Do you hear me?” 

“I do. Coordinates? I have no idea where I am.” 

Muse switched off the beads and craned her neck down the road. Fifteen minutes and she’d be on a bus headed towards the center of town, a soft bed, and hopefully the darkness of sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

M’Baku was pacing the sleeper car that once housed his Muse. It was quiet in a way that disturbed him, empty and with no answers in sight. He’d managed to crack the code on her laptop, but it had been wiped. The same went for the tablet and cell phone stacked on the small desk. Outside of her clothing, a few books, and the indent of her head in the pillow there was little to tell anyone she’d been there. His eyes drifted to the storm beginning to swirl outside of the train. Muse was out there with only the clothes on her back and a set of kimoyo beads she refused to turn on. Who or what was she running from? He’d know soon because the men she’d felled were trussed and tied in his cabin awaiting interrogation. M’Baku’s fist flexed. Someone was going to tell him something if he had to rain down every bit of his rage on the world.

After he’d watched Muse disappear into the dark horizon, he’d culled each man before he awoke and half drug each to his cabin, placating concerned onlookers with a tale of a bachelor party gone wild. Most had just smiled and nodded in understanding. He’d go at them alone, but with his countrymen on their way to intercept the train, he’d wait lest he be interrupted.

The slide of the door opening broke his thoughts.

“What the hell is going on?” M’Baku roared at the two men entering the sleeper car.

He trained an angry glare onto the Udaku cousins who took seats without a word.

“Does Shuri know where she is?” His voice was frantic and he didn’t care. “Please.”

“She assures me she does not nor does she have the means to track her. Muse, as you know, is very adept at not being found when she doesn’t want to be.” T’Challa informed as he cast a glance towards his cousin.

“Muse is a ghost, Bak. She even impresses me. You find anything?”

M’Baku shook his head. “She wiped the computer, tablet, and phone. Nothing in the paper files or her bags.”

The cousins grunted.

“Shuri is always giving her new shit,” N’Jadaka groused. “That’s her field tester, you know?”

M’Baku took a seat on the edge of the Murphy bed. “I don’t. No one has ever been honest with me about what Muse does. Which of you is going to start?”

The room was heavy with silence for a moment. T’Challa began.

“Muse has been many things. Of course, you know her as the communications assistant for the Jabari, but she eventually branched into communications for the rest of the nation.”

“But that’s not her official duty, is it?”

“No. Muse is a hub of sorts. Part information liaison, part spy, part tech advisor. She wears many hats, if you will.”

M’Baku ran a hand over his face. He felt lied to, but there was a pride he hadn’t expected creeping into his thoughts. A bit of shame filtered in as well. He’d wanted Muse to stay home and love him with no thoughts about from where her talents sprung or how they could best be utilized.

“And that manifests in what ways?”

T’Challa looked towards N’Jadaka while M’Baku pointed his gaze at the other man as well. He wanted answers.

“Your girl is a bad ass. I told you that in Oakland, remember? She runs missions with us, goes on her own. That’s why she goes dark at times.”

M’Baku growled. “Going dark usually means trouble. We all know that.”

He’d run his fair share of missions and knew what that meant. There’d been times he’d had to lay low until the heat of his dealings had cooled. What had Muse been trying to avoid?

N’Jadaka sighed. “It was mostly run of the mill stuff.”

“You’re lying. The three bastards tied up in my car say otherwise. What did you get her involved in?!” M’Baku leaned forward and tented his hands in front of him. “She’s out there alone with only the clothes on her back. That tells me she wanted to get away by any means necessary. I woke up and she was gone.” His voice cracked.

“She’s trying to protect you,” T’Challa proclaimed plainly.

“From? It’s bigger than those men, isn’t it?”

“The Noir Group. And it is much bigger than just those peons.”

M’Baku’s patience was running thin. “Daka? Fill me in before I flip the fuck out.”

“Noir is a group of thieves. Travelling the globe to gather the latest weaponry. We ran a quick mission to recover some of our tech. Muse got captured. It was hell getting her back.”

M’Baku felt sick to his stomach. “When? What happened?”

“A year ago.” N’Jadaka rose and took at stance at the window. “They figured she was the way to all the Wakandan tech they could ever need. They cut her off from us first, sliced the comm grain from her head.” The anger in his words was clear.

The room seemed to heat rapidly.

“When we found her, two days later, she was a mess. Those bastards tortured her, but that girl is strong as hell. She didn’t break.”

“Why didn’t you bring her to me? Tell me?’ The strain was evident.

“She didn’t want you know. That was her only stipulation. We listened to her.”

***  
Muse sank into the scalding water with a hiss. The scrapes and cuts on her knees and palms burned. She let the water cover her frame gingerly until her skin adjusted to the heat. Save the drip from the leaky faucet, the bathroom, and the hotel room beyond the door, was silent. A heavy sigh pushed from behind her lips. It was followed by a shaky sob. Then another and another until the room had gone from silent to full of her pain. Muse was hurting physically, but her mind, heart, and spirit were battered, too.

She’d been given the briefest of moments to enjoy M’Baku and now she was in the wind again, alone and afraid. Sure, she was strong and very capable of surviving just about anything, but she was also in the middle of nowhere with little more than a thin connection to Wakanda. She didn’t want to pull anyone else into her flight from Noir. Shuri was enough. The only comfort in that was knowing there was little to no chance operatives would ever make contact with the young princess.

Muse’s hand drifted to the scar behind her ear again. It was slightly raised, not quite a keloid but not flush with her skin. When she was nervous or afraid her fingers always found that spot. Despite the pain behind the scar, it was a reminder she was alive. It had been a year since that torturous night. She had yet to figure out how to press those memories to the back of her mind. It was hard to remember anything other than her failed attempt to escape and the price that had been exacted on her.

_Muse’s footsteps were echoing so she stopped briefly to remove her shoes. In her ear, she listened to the communications channel Shuri had opened. Muse, T’Challa, and N’Jadaka had split up the moment they’d infiltrated the lab, hoping three separate sweeps would result in a quicker extraction of the tech they’d finally traced to the location deep into the American Heartland. It was an unlikely place to hide, but any hiding place was as good as any she supposed._

_“Got it,” N’Jadaka called out over the line. “I’m headed out. Meet at the extraction point, cool?”_

_She and T’Challa gave their affirmation and continued their searches until T’Challa pinpointed his target._

_“Muse? Need assistance?” he asked._

_“No. I’m good. Go on. I’ll be out in five.” She promised, moving deeper into the corridors around her._

_That had been fifteen minutes ago and now she’d picked up a cadre of men intent on reclaiming the small vibranium powered blaster. She had no intention on that happening. Muse slid her shoes beneath a towering rack of boxes and crouched behind a stack of pallets. She said a silent prayer when the men passed her location. Once they were out of sight, she’d make her move. A twenty count later, she bolted back in the direction she’d come only to feel the shocking pain of her head jerking backwards._

_“Tsk. Tsk.” A voice behind her chuckled darkly. “Say goodbye to your team.”_

The slice of a blade behind her ear buckled her knees. The small grain communication device clattered silently to the ground amid the fading shouts of T’Challa and N’Jadaka.

Muse shook her head, failed to shake the memories from flooding back.

_The lights around her were bright when her eyes opened. She swallowed deeply and nearly choked. She made a move to stand, but her fingers slid across the floor beneath her. She glanced down to see the blood where her head had rested. The wound behind her ear was seeping and showed no sign of slowing. She braced herself again and rose to unsteady feet. She staggered towards the door on the opposite side of the room. Fingers slipping and shaking against the knob, she found it locked tightly. She was so tired, but she needed to move. Her second try of the door was even less successful, but this time it flew forward suddenly, pushing and sliding her back across the floor. Muse’s gaze rose to see the doorframe fill with the bodies of black clad men looking less than willing to help._

_“Glad to see our guest of honor had rejoined the world,” the man in flanked by the others intoned. “I’m sure your team is anxious for your return.”_

_Muse knew the underlying message and steeled herself, shutting down her mind bit by bit like N’Jadaka had taught her until she was floating just below the surface of her own consciousness. So, when the first blow hit, she felt nothing and would feel nothing until she let herself wake up._

The water was ice cold by the time Muse’s mind pieced itself back together. Drawing her knees up to her chest she rocked a moment before pulling herself from the tub. She stared at herself in the mirror for a moment, chastising herself for running from those who wanted to help her. She’d deal with the guilt later, but for now it was for the best. She eyed the beads resting on the countertop as she drew her battered clothing back onto her body. She’d venture to a store in the morning for replacements. For now, she just wanted to sleep. Muse patted the secret pocket to ensure the bank card was still present. If she had to run again, she wanted to be prepared.

In bed, a quiet hum filled her head. It increased and she screwed her eyes closed. _Just stress_ , she told herself. Muse had almost believed it, but when the hum turned into a roar her body curled into itself. The pain was all consuming. It washed over her in waves until the world turned black. At the edges of her vision she saw a looming figure approaching the bed steadily. She scrambled to move, found her body paralyzed and her mind very much aware.

“Hello, Muse.”

The silky voice was one she’d hoped to never hear again.

“It seems I had to dig into my bag of tricks a little sooner than I’d wanted. Alas, things can continue as planned, right?”

He took a seat, the mattress dipping with his weight. A single digit trailed the curve of her jaw before moving to the scar.

“I find it amusing your people never considered the fact we not only took something out, but perhaps put something in. Shall we begin?”

***  
“Shuri asked we bring this to you.” T’Challa’s hand plunged into his pocket and produced a thick rope of pewter teeth. He extended it towards the center of the room.

M’Baku’s large hand closed around the necklace. “Is this?” The rest of the question wouldn’t form.

N’Jadaka nodded. “She said it’s been in the works for a while. Thought it was important for you to have.”

M’Baku nodded without taking his eyes from the gift. He slipped it onto his neck, a perfect fit.

“So, let’s see it,” N’Jadaka prodded. “Just tell it to go on.”

M’Baku did so without hesitation and felt the sensation of his body being sheathed. He took a step forward to catch his reflection in the glass. He looked even more intimidating. The suit covered every bit of him in black nanites with accents of jade green. The face markings mimicked his ceremonial mask, its teeth bared and brow furrowed. He didn’t feel bulky nor confined. He phased away the nanites covering his features.

“I take it Muse has one as well?”

“Not yet. Then again we don’t know much about what Shuri provides for her.”

The vibration and ding of T’Challa’s beads stopped M’Baku’s fascination with the suit.

“Yes, Shuri?”

“Put it on speaker,” M’Baku nearly growled. It was not a request and was granted quickly.

“Brother, I have news. It’s Muse.”

M’Baku rushed forward. “You’ve found her?”

There was a beat of hesitation. “No…yes…she made me promise not to reveal her location.”

“You’ve been in contact with her?!”

“Muse and I are never out of contact. I’m her bridge.”

“Bring her in, Shuri. Now!”

“I can’t.” There was fear and regret laced though her words. “I…she’s…I’m not sure how to explain it.”

“Try!” M’Baku barked, drawing the ire of the Udaku men before him. “Please,” he corrected quietly.

“A few moments ago, her vitals spiked. It set off an alert as to be expected. From what her biometrics are telling me, there’s been a significant change to her brain activity. Her temperature spiked and dropped. Heart rate is nearly double what it should be.”

M’Baku’s heart switched off. “Send me her coordinates along with her vitals on stream and the blueprints for her current location.”

He phased off the suit completely, confident it would come in handy. “Can you tell if she’s alone?”

“I don’t have eyes on the place, but I’m working on it.”

“Any other heat signatures outside her location?” He was moving rapidly towards his sleeper car, T’Challa and N’Jadaka closely behind him.

He gestured towards the tied men, mouthed to get them to on the first thing back to Wakanda to be questioned. His focus had shifted to Muse wholly.

“Not that can be detected. Your requested information is on its way over. I’ll keep an open channel.”

“Thanks, Shuri. For the suit. Everyting.”

“Save it for when you bring her back, Baku. Go get your girl.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening: Omens by James Chatburn

“Muse! You gotta stay with me, baby girl!” 

She could hear N’Jadaka’s voice, but it was distant as if he was shouting from the other end of a tunnel.

“Come on! Open those eyes for me!”

There was movement all around her, but she felt stuck to the mattress. It was like quicksand pulling her deeper and deeper. Her chest hurt, her head a close second in pain. She was struggling to breathe, but she couldn’t quite tell if it was from fear or injury. The figure had remained seated next to her for what had seemed like hours, tinkering with a small tablet until the roar went back to a hum and then to nothing. For a small window of time, the world was normal.

Qalisa (start).

The strongly whispered word set the pain washing over her again. When her lids opened briefly, the room was empty. For how long? She didn’t know.

Muse felt her body lifting, her head lolling back into the crook of someone’s arm. Everything felt heavy. Her eyes. Her limbs. Her tongue.

“Usana?”

M’Baku. Panicked and a whisper, but there. Then the familiar feel of his solid chest and the coolness of rain against her skin. Muse let the heavy take over.

***

M’Baku couldn’t hear anything. He’d watched a tight contingent of Dora in civilian clothing packed up the contents of his cabin and Muse’s before shackling the captured men into a holding cell of a transport ship. Then he was racing towards the center of a town he couldn’t remember the name of, towards Muse. Dancing before him, a projection from his kimoyo beads, Muse’s vitals waxed and waned. Her heart was moving faster than he thought possible, her breathing shallow and barely there. Hanuman help me get there in time, he prayed.

That would be the last bit of humanity he would allow himself until she was safely with him. Until that moment it was strictly business. Get in. Extract Muse. Get out. Nothing more and nothing less. He was grateful Shuri was able to tell him she was alone. It was one less thing to distract him. The small motel had loomed on the horizon quickly once the trio had dropped from the Royal Talon Fighter.

M’Baku phased away the mask covering his face and took a glance to either side of him, noting the similarly clad men with faces set in anger. The thin door gave way easily with a shoulder bump. Muse’s frame, curled on its side, did not stir. From the doorway, he could make out the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

The room was still and he froze at the sight of her while the men flanking him rushed forward. They’d seen her injured, hovering near the ancestors before, and knew how to tuck away that fear. By the time M’Baku had come back to himself, Muse was being lifted into N’Jadaka’s arms, her body limp in a way that terrified him. Stepping forward he relieved the other man of her weight gingerly, afraid of hurting her. She was burning and trembling. M’Baku called her name and received nothing. Taking a step over the destroyed door, he sprinted towards the ship with the Udakus on his heels.

***

“She’s still out of it?” T’Challa spoke quietly as he entered the room. The door sealed behind him.

M’Baku looked up briefly and nodded. His attention returned to Muse’s prone frame. Her breathing had deepened, her heart rate slowed, but she was still floating in and out of consciousness.

“What do they say?” T’Challa inquired as the took a seat opposite M’Baku.

“They’re still not sure what spiked her vitals or why she won’t fully wake up. It’s just a waiting game, I guess.”

There was so much sadness and anger in his heart that M’Baku was surprised the answer came out steady. He’d spent the last three days catching sleep as he could and hovering over Muse. It hadn’t changed anything.

“I need everything you have on Noir.” Simple and to the point. “Every single thing.”

T’Challa nodded. “You know she always worried about you and she loves you. Immensely.”

“Then why would she put herself in danger?” M’Baku felt surly.

“Why would you want such a dynamic woman to waste away on a mountain?” T’Challa raised an eyebrow.

“What’s wrong with the mountains?”

“You know that was not a slight. It was simply a question of why you would be attracted to a woman with such vast prowess only to lock her away. Something to think about, eh?”

T’Challa made his exit, leaving M’Baku to his own thoughts. A few moments later the tablet next to his seat dinged.

_The Noir Group_

_Leadership: True identity unknown. Code Name: Akoben_

_Gathered Intelligence: While relatively unknown by the world at large, Noir, is not a new radicalized group. First discovered by War Dogs on assignment, the group is one of resourcefulness with a primary goal of obtaining, selling, and using technologically advanced weapons of all natures from across the globe. It should be noted while their primary objective is monetary gain, newer factions have become prevalent which seek to destabilize and overthrow governments of nations bordering those with rich resources of any kind. Current leadership is of the aforementioned designation._

_Attempts to negotiate by other nations have been futile and lives have been lost in skirmishes to reclaim stolen technology and weapons. Wakandan efforts have consisted of direct reclamation via covert operations, primarily of the Black Panther, Golden Jaguar, and Jade Capuchin._

_It should be noted Jade Capuchin was compromised during an attempt to procure stolen prototypes. Time of loss approximately 60 hours including extraction time. J.C. suffered heavy damage as no nanite suit was available at time of infiltration. A catalog of injuries include: contusions and abrasions to head, face, ribcage, arms, and thighs. Large laceration behind left ear, a result of communication grain removal. Recovery time was approximately 30 days. No notification made to Jabari tribe at request of J.C. Psych services refused prior to upcoming missions._

_Preliminary recon shows Noir has begun to branch into mind control programs. It is possible their continued pursuit of J.C. is due to this new interest._

_Plan of Action: As it is assumed Noir is interested in J.C. as a gateway to Wakadan tech, a close tether to her should be maintained. J.C., currently stationed in Tokyo, has had little to no contact with her tribe since failed engagement to Lord M’Baku. Complete contact with J.C. shall be the primary responsibility of head of R &D, Princess Shuri Udaku. Prototype suit will be made available to Lord M’Baku. Upon his acceptance, J.C. shall be fitted for similar._

_Noir, once brought to light, shall be eliminated individually or as a whole. No rules of engagement apply. Point for all eliminations shall be B.P. and G.J._

M’Baku closed his eyes for a moment. The idea of Muse enduring a month of recovery showed him just how close she’d come to being gone from him forever. Fear was an affront to Hanuman, but fear was what coursed through him as he looked down at Muse. She wasn’t going anywhere no matter if she wanted to remain by his side or not. He ruled the Jabari and if he had to exert his power to keep her safe he would.

***

Home. Muse knew she was home before her eyes opened. The air smelled of pine and embers and wild honey. She flexed her fingers and found them dipped into a pallet of fur, the others intertwined with another set that were warm and thick.

“Sithandwa sam? Sushukuma” (My love? Do not move.)

She couldn’t, save the pulse of her fingers against his. Muse felt her eyes moisten then the rough pad of M’Baku’s thumb wiping away the wayward tears threatening to pool in her ears.

“How long have I been home?” Her voice was like sandpaper.

“You know where you are?’ He sounded surprised.

“Home has never left my heart, Baku.” Muse gestured towards a glass of water on a nearby table. M’Baku retrieved it, brought it to her, and brought the bed to a sitting position. He studied her while she drank with shaking hands. Despite the shake, she felt strength returning to her bloodstream.

“Did I leave your heart?”

Muse set the glass in his hand. “I’ve never said that. You told me to leave.”

“I didn’t mean that. I didn’t know what else to say.”

Muse pinched the bridge of her nose. “You could have listened to me and the reasons why I needed to leave.”

“To be some sort of spy?! To nearly die without me knowing? Do you understand how that would have destroyed me?”

M’Baku brought his face closer, his breath mingling with hers.

“Did you ever consult me when you and those cousins snuck across our borders? Or when you went off into the dark alone? No!” she shot back.

Muse felt her chest tighten. M’Baku reached for her hand and she jerked it back. “Don’t!”

“Muse…”

“No! Did you ever once think what I was trying to do? You walk this kingdom, hell the world, saving and protecting. And you wanted me here at home to love and fuck and be pretty, right?”

She watched the open gape of his mouth, his swallowing of his words and the anger in his eyes.

“M’Baku, you never once thought that I have a brain and a body that extends beyond your comfort. I took my chance and I ran with it. At least T’Challa and N’Jadaka believed in me!”

M’Baku rose swiftly. Muse steeled her gaze and body as much as she could in her weakened state. Her heartbeat thumped against her chest.

“Then you can have them worry about you,” he roared before the door slammed behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening: Murder by Rom and Twice by Little Dragon

M’Baku paced the hallway outside Muse’s recovery room. He pounded a fist against the wall trying dispel some of his frustration. He hadn’t wanted to yell at her. He’d just gotten so frustrated at the idea of her hurt and possibly lost to him forever. Knowing T’Challa and N’Jadaka had access to her he didn’t wasn’t sitting well either. The number of issues he had to take up with his “friends” was growing by the minute. Secrets may work in their family, but the Jabari were of a different stock. 

He needed a moment to calm himself and then he’d set things right. He wasn’t himself since he’d awaken with her no longer slumbering beside him. The discernment and judgement he usually exhibited was missing. He breathed in and out before pressing the button next to the door. Muse was seated at the edge of the bed, eyes cast downward onto her thighs. 

“Hey,” he started simply as he moved fully into the room. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.” 

Muse hummed. “You meant what you said. I’ll stay here in the city until I’m ready to go back into the field.” 

M’Baku took a seat next to her and pulled her hand into his lap. She didn’t recoil this time. “Let me say what need to, okay?” 

She watched the meld of their hands for a moment before agreeing quietly. 

“I read your file, Jade Capuchin.” He poked her ribs with a smile. “I’m impressed and very worried. You’ve always been my Muse. Keeping you safe has been a priority for years.” 

“I can...” 

“Shhh. You are more than a body to warm home for me. Do you not believe I know how intelligent and capable you are? That’s why I worry.” 

Muse’s fingers moved to trace the lines in his palm. “Go on.” 

“You are one of the most focused women I’ve ever met. You attach to an idea and nothing stops you. This covert work is dangerous, usana. Why would I want to risk losing you?” 

“So, you push me away and I do it anyway? Not a solid plan, right? It’s a double standard and you know it.” 

She brought her eyes to his. “I’m good at what I do. I wouldn’t be asked to help the Panther clan if I wasn’t. Be proud of that and support me.” 

“I will, but please let me help you. You don’t have to face Noir alone.” 

“I’m very aware of that, but I want to keep you safe. I’ve seen them at their worst, Bak. They are ruthless in ways Wakanda isn’t...yet.” 

She rose from the bed and stretched gingerly. She’d opened her mouth to speak when the door opened to reveal a surly N’Jadaka. 

“What’s up, Muse? You good?” 

M’Baku knew this was his very brusque way of checking in on her. 

“I’m good, Daka. What’s the problem?” 

“I’m here for ya man. The Noir agents are dead.” 

Muse and M’Baku rushed forward at the news, their questions filling the air in unison. 

“Lil’ Cuz thinks they had implanted suicide kits. All three just seized up and faded out.” 

“Any other intel before all the shit hit the fan?” M’Baku’s fury was back. 

“Nah. Just one of them saying something about the madness beginning.” 

***  
Muse knew M’Baku’s quiet meant he wanted to check out things for himself. It was the same silence he’d fallen into at the hotel in Oakland. 

“Go. I’ll be fine. I am fine,” she corrected. 

He pressed his lips to the shell of her ear, promising to continue the conversation when he returned. Before the warmth of his breath had cooled on her skin, they were gone. 

Muse pulled a long sleeved white shirt onto her body along with a pair of gray compression leggings. She was restless and needed to expel energy. Before long she found herself taking the spiral ramp into Shuri’s lab. The steady thump and rattle of music was soothing. Entering the tech wonderland was awe inspiring. Muse had yet to tell T’Challa how much she admired Shuri’s age or gender not being used as a hinderance to her brilliant mind and career path. 

“Hey there, Vibranium Violet! Or are you Platinum Princess today?” Muse called out, startling the young woman. She braced herself for the impact of the forthcoming hug. 

“Jade Capuchin!” Shuri mumbled into her shoulder. “I’ve missed you so much!” 

Muse pulled back and smiled. “I’ve missed you, too! Fill me in on the latest.” 

She and Shuri had always had an easy way with each other even in the darkest moments of Muse’s recovery. There had been days the pain had been overwhelming, all encompassing, and the youngest Udaku had found a way to distract her long enough to move past it. Muse was forever grateful. 

The next few hours were easy. Listening to Shuri enthusiastically explain and demonstrate her inventions was invigorating. Muse longed for that rush again. She’d been out of the field for a year, at the orders of T’Challa. She was grateful for his protection and concern, but it was time for it to be lifted. 

“M’Baku knows everything, you know?” 

“I’m aware. We’ve already blown up at each other over it.” 

Shuri tutted. “He’s such a big baby. You’re more than capable of handling whatever’s thrown at you.” 

“Except how did he know where I was?” Muse kept her voice even. “You promised.” 

“I thought you were dying! And I warned you! If I thought you were in danger all bets were off. And I was right!” 

Muse appreciated the stubborn set of the girl’s chin. She had been right. A dull thud started at the base of Muse’s skull. 

“Thank you. Seriously, you helped them save my life.” 

“Of course. You know? Once you marry M’Baku, you’ll be my strongest ally in bringing tech to Jabariland.” 

Muse’s laughter filled the entire room. “We are far from that, little one.” 

“If you say so. Anyhow, I have a council meeting. Boring, right? Stay here and I’ll have a surprise for you when I return!” 

Muse watched Shuri bound out of the room. 

What felt like lightening shot through Muse’s head and buckled her. She slid from the chair onto the floor, her body curling into itself. She tried to bring herself upright to no avail. 

Qalisa. Qalisa. Qalisa. 

The whisper in her head increased in volume with each repetition. The scar behind her ear heated to white hot then the world was black. 

***

“Muse?” M’Baku raised his palms as he approached her. “Sweetheart, what are you doing?” 

Her stance was military, hands clasped behind her back tightly with her legs balanced widely. She rolled her neck before speaking. 

“Yes, my love?” 

M’Baku recoiled slightly. She sounded almost robotic. The honeyed warmth of her voice was gone and something in M’Baku faltered. When she turned, slowly and stiffly, the smile plastered to her face was frightening. 

“What do you mean? Just taking stock of Shuri’s designs.” The end of her statement rolled up like a question and grated against his ears. 

“Why is that?” He hoped that the toothy grin dropped from her lips. “Let’s get you back to the med bay.” 

M’Baku stepped forward gingerly, palms still raised. Muse rolled her neck again before propping a hand on one shapely hip. Her foot tapped for a moment before she spoke again. 

“You know what find so very interesting? This whole time the Panther clan knew what Noir wanted me for. Why they chased me all over the Earth. And what did they do, hmm?” 

She took a step forward. “They sat on that information. For a year, Baku. An entire year I never got a good night’s sleep, always looking over my shoulder and wondering if I’d wake up again covered in blood with my head split open.” 

M’Baku didn’t want that image in his mind, but it was hard to shake once it was there. He’d deal with the anger later. 

“They did what they thought was best to eliminate the threat. “ 

She chuckled darkly. “What’s best. You and I both know that’s bullshit. Look at N’Jadaka! What their best practices drove him to.” 

Muse moved closer, arms relaxed at her side. Her eyes never left his. 

“This,” her fingers traveled to the scar again. “Is where their best practices began and where it will end. Qalisa (start), right?” 

M’Baku watched in awe and fear as Muse’s body tightened, jaw flexing and relaxing. A darkness washed over her face. 

“I’ve been trying to fight it, Bak. Hanuman knows I have, but I can’t any longer.” 

For the briefest moment he swore he saw love and relief filter into her eyes. Her features softened then set to stone. He was powerless to stop her from falling to her knees or to help her rise after what seemed like an eternity. When Muse rose, her face seemed not her own. The sickening smile was back. 

“Muse?” He ventured. 

She shook her head. “Sepow.” 

She sauntered slowly at the opposite end of the room. Her fingers trailed lazily on one of the tables, tapping solidly against a pair of gauntlets. 

“The girl is a genius. That could never be denied. You’d be surprised at the wonders that exist here.” 

“Like what, usana?” M’Baku was hoping to distract her. “I’m sure she’s kept you abreast of everything she’s been working on.” 

Muse raised a finger and shook it at him. “Tsk. Tsk. No distractions.” 

Her hands moved to her neck and M’Baku stopped all movement. A delicate chain of pewter teeth similar to his own lay against her brown skin. 

“She never told me about this, huh? Found out you have one. Just like the Udaku boys.” 

The disgust in her voice was thick, her words echoing briefly before the suit phased onto her body. 

“Damnit!” M’Baku hissed as his own suit cloaked him. “Let’s not do this, Muse!” 

Muse raised a slender hand and beckoned for him to charge. 

“No! This isn’t you.” 

She shrugged simply and ran full speed at him. M’Baku set his body low and waited for the impact. A split second before their bodies would collide, Muse swept a long leg against his ankles, crashing him to the slate floor. 

She slid to a stop a foot behind him and tented her fingers against the tiles before propelling forward again. This pass, her body arched towards him, the flat of her foot planting into the center of his chest. M’Baku felt the air rush from him as he staggered back a few steps. 

He recovered quickly and banded his arms around Muse. He tried to avoid squeezing, but had no choice when Muse’s hands came down sharply on his carotid artery. He was impressed at how quick she was. 

“Yeka ngoku” (Stop right now!)

He hoped the roar of his voice was enough to bring her back to reality, but with a brief glance into her eyes he knew his Muse was nowhere to be found. Still, a small part of him held onto the thought she was still there below the surface. Distracted by his thoughts, M’Baku didn’t have enough time to counter the head butt Muse aimed directly at the center of his forehead. The clank of their skulls dazed both of them and he dropped her to the ground with a solid thump. 

“What’s the endgame?” He matched her movement for movement once she rose from the floor. She looked cagey and dangerous. “You know I can’t let you leave here like this.”

The chuckle again. “Let me leave? All that brawn and so little brains.” 

Muse bounced on the balls of her feet, her arms raised in a fighting stance. M’Baku noted her form and silently cursed the Udakus for training her. He outsized her, but M’Baku knew better than to underestimate her. She caught him off guard again. This time a solid right hook landed against his jaw. He flexed the bottom portion of his face.

“I’m trying not to hurt you, Muse. Please don’t make me.” 

The set of her mouth let him know that this would not end without a blow or two exchanged on his part. M’Baku matched her stance, prepared to deflect her blows once she charged again. 

“Ukuphelisa oku! Lo bu budenge” he shouted as a last resort. (End this! This is madness!)

Muse’s movements halted. She was still, eyes forward and unblinking. M’Baku approached her cautiously. 

“Sweetheart?” He waved a hand in front of her face with no response. She was breathing evenly and for that he was grateful. M’Baku moved her towards an exam table, lifted her weight easily onto it. 

“I need the two of you. Bring Shuri as well,” he called into the comm channel. “Hurry!” 

M’Baku tightened the straps around her wrists and ankles as gently as he could while making sure she was still secure. The pressurized hiss of the door didn’t break his concentration. 

“Yo! What the hell are you…” The words died on N’Jadaka’s lips when M’Baku raised his head. “She did that?” 

He gestured towards the knot forming on M’Baku’s forehead and the pool of blood at the corner of his mouth and split lip. 

“Yea. I need to test a theory. Muse has been compromised, but I’m sure you three knew that was bound to happen.”

M’Baku brought his lips to Muse’s temple before whispering to her. “Qalisa.”

Muse’s eyes sprang open. She growled at the sight of the group surrounding her. “You coward! Let me go and I won’t gut all of you!” 

“Bu budenge,” he whispered and her body went slack.


	6. Chapter 6

Two Years Prior:

M’Baku sat in his study balancing Muse’s abandoned engagement ring in his large fingers. The thin band, a mixture of vibranium and sacred Jabari wood intertwined and topped with a fiery opal, was exactly how he saw Muse. A perfect mixture of modern and traditional. Delicate and strong and more than beautiful to look at. Except now that mixture of delicate, strong, modern, and traditional was driving her from him and their homeland. He hadn’t meant to tell her to not return, but the means to tell her what made him afraid and why he needed her with him had escaped him at the time.

He was afraid. Afraid that she would see the world without him and decide he wasn’t enough. M’Baku was even more fearful she would discover there was nothing he could offer her. So he clung to her in ways that made it impossible for her to leave until he squeezed her so tightly she couldn’t breathe. And now she was fleeing. N’Jadaka had slipped him her travel plans, a one-way journey to Amsterdam with the rest of the file redacted. He knew those heavy black bars well. There was information he was not privy to, a part of her life to which he did not have access. That set a fire in his belly and before he was aware of himself he was shaking and on the verge of tears. Muse had been his and now he’d cast her out into the world.

M’Baku rose from the heavily ornate chair and made his way to the windows showing the open expanse of his kingdom. It was a kingdom, a tribe, he was ruling alone due to his own stubbornness and refusal to see the world moving around him. Tradition had its place and M’Baku knew he was making his way towards deeper integration with the rest of his home nation, but pride was stronger than anything else he’d ever experienced. Pride was stopping him from calling Muse. It was what was preventing him for making plans to show up at the landing pad to stop her from leaving or to at least say goodbye. Pride was costing him the woman he loved.

Evening had settled into Jabariland and M’Baku’s mood was still dark. His leg was bouncing furiously, echoing the heavy tap of his boots into the room. It was taking everything in him to not storm down the halls of the palace and out into the village to Muse’s home. He knew he would find her there packing and as cleaved as him. He had no doubt she loved him, but that love wasn’t greater than her need to reach her own potential.

The quiet groan of the door brought M’Baku’s eyes to the glass in front of him. In the reflection, Muse’s frame slipped into the room, her arm reaching back to close the heavy wood plank softly. They stared at each other for a moment before M’Baku turned towards her and cut the distance between them. He reached out a long arm and cupped her cheek in his palm. She leaned into the contact, the rush of her breath tickled his skin.

“Usana, I’m so sorry,” he began.

“Shhh. We’ll talk later. I need you.” She glanced up at him through hooded eyes.

Muse’s fingers gripped the edge of the linen tunic stretched across his chest. She lifted it without a word, tossing it over her shoulder before running a slender hand across his frame. M’Baku felt as if she was studying him. Her fingers traced the definition of his pecs, the soft swell of his belly, and the cords of his arms. He could not stop himself from relieving her of her shirt as well, his hands mimicking hers as he traced the curves and lines of her body.

Small hands planted on either side of his face and pulled him down into her mouth, open and warm. Their tongues dueled. The air around them heated until Muse pressed forward with her body and moved the mountain of the man in front of her to his desk. She stepped out of the fur-lined boots and let her skirt fall about her ankles. Properly nude, she splayed herself across his desk.

“Please.”

The simple word sent M’Baku’s senses into the hinterlands. All that mattered was burying himself deeply into the woman offering herself to him with the expanse of his kingdom twinkling behind her. Hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his pants, he tugged them down and sent them scattering across the room on a whip of air. He dropped to his knees and pulled a shapely thigh over each shoulder. He started tentatively, planting kisses and nips along the sensitive insides of her thighs. Muse arched beneath him. Placing one hand against the rise of her belly, he held her in place as his tongue flicked out and caught the slickness of her core. A moan reverberated through the study and elicited one of his own. The vibration of his voice made her call out his name. M’Baku slid her closer to the edge of the desk and tightened his grip on her hips. 

“Please.”

M’Baku suppressed a smile and hooked his tongue inside her. Without the weight of his hand against her torso, Muse’s back arched from the desk. Her hands sought to grip anything, but only succeeded in pushing the papers from the surface into a flurry that settled around M’Baku’s bent knees. He plunged and suckled as she came undone beneath him, the beginnings of steam starting to fog the windows directly behind them. Her hands found their home in his hair, her grip bruising as she used it as an anchor to rock herself into his mouth. The wetness of tongue and skin was like music to M’Baku. He found the rhythm of her roll and kept time until she screamed his name a second time.

He rose swiftly, the thickness of him heavy and pulsing to find its home inside her. Angling himself at her entrance, M’Baku moved slowly to savor the grip of her around him. It was as if her body was hungry for him. He canopied his frame over hers and latched to a breast, his tongue laving and sucking. Muse pressed his head tightly to her and gasped when he was fully seated. Each and every time felt like the first with her, a custom fit. M’Baku started slowly, measuring his strokes by nearly pulling out and snapping his hips back into place with all of the power in his legs. Muse mewed beneath him, her legs locking at the small of his back. The open O of her mouth produced no sound, but M’Baku’s grunts filled the space her silence left. He needed closer. He picked her up and moved towards the chair. He thrust up into her as he sat. Pressing down onto her hips, he used his as a piston. Muse cried out and buried her face into the crux of his neck. M’Baku rocked into her roughly, knew there would be bruises scattered across both of them in the morning. He let out a string of curses as he pumped into her, the sloppy sound of her accepting him time and again becoming like a prayer along with her cries to Hanuman. When both of them broke, chasing each other into orgasmic bliss, M’Baku’s strokes slowed then faltered to nothing. His hands traced the valley of her spine until she drifted off to slumber. Then and only then did her uncouple their bodies, drawing her down onto the soft furs in front of the fire.

She was gone. M’Baku knew the cold of the space beside him before his eyes pulled open. He was so accustomed to the heat of Muse’s breath against his bare skin as she huddled against his body to hear his heartbeat that his entire being felt cold without her. He rolled to his back and splayed his arms behind his head. He sighed heavily before bounding from the floor. Maybe there was still time to catch her before the talon took off over the horizon. Throwing on his furs as quickly as he could, he roared towards her home only to spy the lack of smoke billowing from the chimney as he crested a hill. His gait slowed to a stop several feet from the home. M’Baku planted his hands on his hips and set a hard stare at the bright green door that was Muse’s own little splash of color in the stark white around them. He approached cautiously, knocked and waited until he knew there would be no response. M’Baku found his hands shaking as he gathered his key and moved towards the lock. His mind swirled with hopes she was simply too busy to answer. Instinct told him it wasn’t true. He couldn’t feel Muse, knew she was already gone.

In her bedroom, the small envelope propped next to a pool of waist beads broke his heart. He remembered fondly looping them across her flesh and watching the amber beads catch the firelight as she slept beside him.

_With all that I am I love you. I have for years. And for the same span of time I’ve watched you grow into a dynamic human being, a powerful king, and a man worthy of every bit of my heart and soul. My wish is that one day you will feel the same for me and end your quest to clip my wings. Hanuman will bring us together when he sees fit._

_Muse_

Training his eyes about the room, M’Baku rose as he tucked the note into his inner breast pocket. He ran a finger along the downy softness of the duvet, let the lingering scent of Muse settle deeply into his lungs. She was running and he wouldn’t chase. Hanuman knew best and for now being without her was just that. M’Baku locked the door behind him and left his men to shutter the windows and doors, hoping that one day Muse would return to once again to make it a home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Angst Interlude. This is a flashback to a portion of Muse and M'Baku's breakup. Smut and Angst ahead.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening: Honey by ESTA  
> Just a little background on Muse and M'Baku before we get into what Noir wants.

**Four Years Prior:**

“Here are the most recent analytics for the website, sir.”

Muse laid the thin stack of papers on the desk softly and slid it to an empty spot next to Lord M’Baku’s forearm. He looked up briefly and mouthed _Thank You_. His eyes seemed kind and that surprised Muse. She’d heard the Great Gorilla was a force to be reckoned with. He was feared far and wide for his battle prowess, intimidating stature, and keen eye for strategy. The man atop the Jabari tribe didn’t take kindly to disrespect or any threat to those under his care.

The eyes that looked up at her, chocolate brown with hints of black, swirled with interest that heated her cheeks and made her avert her own gaze. Muse nodded her head in response before turning to leave.

“You’re new? I don’t recall seeing you before today.” There was a hint of interest lingering in his statement as he raised his head fully to study her. She faltered and stopped.

“I am. This is my first week. I’m Muse, your highness. I apologize for not properly introducing myself.”

He chuckled briefly. “No need for such formality. I’m sure Uriah explained that the communications department works very closely with me as I’m not much for extraneous words. We’ll be seeing quite a bit of each other.”

His fingers tented beneath his chin and Muse could read his amusement at her state of fluster.

“I look forward to it, sir,” she stopped short. “What shall I call you if not by your title?” she stammered out.

“M’Baku will do just fine. It’s served me well,” he laughed.

Muse was relieved. She’d taken the job as the assistant to the tribe leader’s communications liaison because of the immense opportunity it provided, but she’d nearly driven herself crazy with worry as her first day approached. She nodded tightly and raised a hand in goodbye. M’Baku tutted.

“Please, have a seat. I’m sure I can learn more about you from your personnel file, but I’d rather hear it from you directly. What brings you to the comm department?”   
Muse folded her tall frame into one of the plush chairs across from his desk, crossing her ankles and tucking them partially beneath the seat. Her hands clasped in her lap and she tried to calm herself before speaking. He disquieted her. Muse was softly confident. She was comfortable in her intelligence, her accomplishments, and her direction in the world. M’Baku didn’t disrupt that. Instead, he awakened a part of her that had seemed dormant. She felt something hot licking in her belly and the storm in his gaze wasn’t helping.

“Well, I earned degrees from both Jabari Regional University and Wakanda University. Both with honors. I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember, but I do my best work with the words of others. So, it was a natural transition into speechwriting and editing. I’ve held positions with corporate and academic entities here and abroad. I missed home so when the opportunity presented itself, I applied and hoped for the best.”

She gave a small smile as she finished. He returned one of his own.

“I get the sense you crave adventure. Office work certainly can’t provide that, Muse.

The drip of her name from his lips sent a jolt through her and she hoped she’d hidden it well. “That is indeed true, but I live by the advice of my father. He says to do what you have to in order to live the life you want outside of the hours you are at work. I’m certain there is plenty of room to grow within the Jabari kingdom. And if not? I’m sure I can help introduce the Jabari way to the world.”

M’Baku’s laugh was hearty. “You’ve already secured the job. No need to impress me.”

“With all due respect, sir.” She slipped into formal speech, sure she was about to offend him. “I wasn’t trying to. I’m very firm in my beliefs and my goals. I intend to make them come to fruition. Will that be all?”

Muse watched a mixture of annoyance and amusement cross his face. She was certain he was not used to being dismissed. She worried her first week under his employ would be her last.

“No, that will be all,” he muttered, lowering his head and returning to the documents in front of him.

**Three Years Later:**

“What I’m saying is that if you would simply just allow for the possibility of the borders opening then perhaps trade talks wouldn’t be like pulling teeth.”

Muse was frustrated. The very stubborn man in front of her had his lips set, a slight purse that let her know he was unlikely to change his mind anytime soon. For the last two hours, she had tried her best to separate her very demanding job with Lord M’Baku and her relationship with her very stubborn boyfriend ‘Baku. Sometimes the two worlds collided and it was nearly impossible to untangle them.

“Whatever they need can be negotiated outside of the confines of this kingdom. There is no compromise on that point, my love.”

Muse bristled. She hated when he used terms of endearment while they were strategizing. He knew it set both her stomach and anger into a tailspin. She set her face in annoyance.

“There is a compromise. It makes sense to show a sense of connectedness. Yes, the Jabari are self-sufficient, but we are also a loving people. Let’s show that, my king.”

Muse let her voice sweeten, dropping its volume until it was a breathy whisper. She knew that would send the blood from one head to another. She bit the inside of her cheek to stifle laughter at the involuntary groan he emitted. 

She saw his resolve weaken slightly. Muse flicked the lock on the office door, returning to M’Baku and sinking down into his lap. Her arms snaked around his neck and she nuzzled into him. Warms lips found his pulse. 

“Please, my beautiful, manly, virile, brilliant, boyfriend?” 

His laughter vibrated through her body. “What does my love desire?”

“A simple trade summit. One that will allow a select few potential partners to visit our wonderous land.”

“And what shall I receive in return?” His statement was laced with lust. “Hmmm, usana?”

Muse pretended to contemplate a bit. “Love?”

“But you already love me. What else?”

“Hmmmm. How about a week of no nagging about a second trade summit?” 

“I do not accept those terms. You are a horrible negotiator. I have a proposal.”

“Do tell,” she murmured as she rested her head on his shoulder. He rustled about for a moment before settling down. 

“I propose that you marry me.”

Muse’s breath caught as her head shot up to look at him. Palmed in his hand was a delicately carved box. A ring shone among a slip of bright white fur.  
“Baku?” No other words would form.

“I’m asking you to marry me, Muse. You are the light of my life. My biggest challenger. My biggest supporter. The woman I wish to love in this lifetime and all that shall come. Will you do me that honor?”

Muse’s vison blurred with tears. She could simply nod and crash her lips to his, the salt of her tears mixing with the taste of honey on his lips.


	8. Chapter 8

“We have to tell him!” N’Jadaka’s voice was coming in and out like static. “...dies...crazy...Aight...your call.”

Floating in and out of reality, Muse couldn’t tell if the furious conversation around her was in her head or in her ears.

“...wish for trouble...Jabari tribe...future queen near death? ...heal her...she decides.”

She could feel the clasp of restraints on her wrists and ankles but didn’t have the strength to buck against them. There was a small hand balanced on her shoulder and a quiet voice breaking between the angry men.

“We will not call him. We promised her. We also promised to keep her protected and look where she is. Calm yourselves and let me work.”

The voice moved closer to her ear.

“Muse? You’re in my lab, okay? I’m going to put you under so you can heal. I promise you you’re safe. M’Baku won’t know.”

She hadn’t realized she’d been crying until thin fingers swiped across her cheeks. A strong pair of arms lifted her from the exam table she’d felt beneath her and into what she knew had to be a healing pod. Then everything was white light and the darkness of sleep once again.

Muse’s eyes sprang open to find the room empty. She cast her gaze about the space and tested the binds around her extremities. They were secure but not impossible to escape. It took a few moments of shifting and squeezing, but she finally felt the soft lining of the straps slide over and off her right wrist. Moving quickly, she released her other limbs and threw her legs over the edge of the exam table.

She pressed her ear to the door, hoping to discern whether or not there was someone staked outside of it. The vibranium enforced portal was soundproof and Muse cursed viciously. She would have to take her chances fighting her way out. Fisting the pewter necklace in steady hands, she looped it around her neck and phased the suit onto her body, her face unmasked and set into a scowl. White hot pain shot through her and buckled her knees. Her vision flickered, dimmed, and then darkened all together.

Muse shook her head to stop the quiet voice that was building in volume. It was louder than the heartbeat thudding in her chest.

It is time, Sepow.

Her body moved of its own volition. She rose slowly, shaking out the kinks and made her way to a communications terminal. Her fingers moved deftly over the screen, attaching weapons specs and tech designs to a message. A defiant beep sounded at her attempt to send it to a series of numbers she had no idea how she knew. Muse felt like she was floating in her own head, like she was seeing but not acting. Her fingers moved again and the same beep sounded, this time a red light near the door lit the space. She knew it meant that soon someone would be around to investigate.

Bring the suit to me. We shall rain destruction onto the land in another way.

Muse didn’t want to move, the small portion of her still conscious knew the ripple effects of the suit being shared with the world. She didn’t want the blood of innocents on her hands. She gripped the edge of the table in an attempt to steady herself. She dug in until her fingers tingled.

“No.” She swore she head a chuckle echo through her head. “Please.”

The same hum she’d fought against in the motel came back in full force, overpowering her until she was moving towards the door and out into the hallway. Coming towards her, two Dora ordered her to halt. Muse growled and charged towards them, a flurry of blows felling them in short order. She stood over them, her chest heaving, and waited for another wave. None came. She exited the lab, running towards the first mode of transportation she could find. It was time to go home.

***   
“How long have you known she was compromised?”

In his head, M’Baku dared one of them to lie to him. He almost welcomed it so he could unleash the anger coiled inside him. He wanted to fight and if he couldn’t get his hands on a member of Noir, then one of them would have to do.

T’Challa cleared his throat. They were huddled in the hallway outside of the Shuri’s lab, around them the space was empty. “Come. This deserves a private conversation.”

M’Baku followed to a meeting room not too far from the lab, hoping he would return before Muse awakened from the sedative she’d been given.

“It is not that we’ve known she was compromised. We simply knew of the possibility.”

M’Baku snarled.

“When Muse was recovered from their capture, her healing process was prolonged because most of our traditional methods did not fully work. It was almost as if she was blocking the technology with her body. Now, it makes sense that not only was her communications grain removed, but also other items implanted.”

“And you felt no need to have her checked for enemy devices? No concern it took her a month to piece her body back together?”

“We felt it prudent…”

“This clan has been seeing things as prudent for generations! You let the future queen of our tribe be used as a guinea pig? Let her suffer? Let her run and live in fear? Let an international syndicate hunt her? For what reasons?”

“To bring them out of hiding,” T’Challa said simply. “Muse was always protected.”

M’Baku stormed towards T’Challa. “Protected? She’s strapped to a fucking bed right now because she can’t control her own mind! For a year, she’s been looking over her shoulder! How is that protected?”

T’Challa’s answer died as his beads lit to life. The four of them watched in stunned silence as a video feed of Muse subduing two Dora flickered in the air. A security breach communique followed.

“Track her!” M’Baku shouted as he raced from the room. “We’ll continue this once I make sure she’s actually protected.”

***  
M’Baku raced from the landing strip and into the driving snow. He could make out Muse’s form on the horizon. She was moving quickly, her body a blur among the drifting flakes. He shouted after her and watched her pause without turning. When she did, phasing the suit away from her features, she smiled. He recognized it was the same one plastered to her face in Shuri’s lab. His stomach sank. He’d hoped there was way he could simply talk to her, but between the flowering bruises on his face and the determination with which she turned and kept running, he knew that was the furthest thing from possibility.

He launched after her, his body covering in nanites as he did. Across the comm channel he shouted out his path to the Udakus following him. He knew beyond them an army of the Jabari’s finest were pulling up the rear. If his theory was correct, Muse was headed directly for the sacred hinterlands. There, among the harshest of conditions, there was no domed protection. It may not have been an easy way into the country, but it was a way. The terrain was rocky with sheer drop-offs that careened down into jagged ice fields and sharp outcroppings of the hardest surfaces on Earth. Coupled with below freezing temperatures and near white out conditions, any man, woman, or army that made its way to Jabariland proper would be exhausted but very much inside Wakanda. M’Baku knew on the other side of the ridge Noir waited for Muse and the havoc she would bring down onto her own people if her suit made it past the borders.

He wouldn’t let that rest on her shoulders nor would he allow any harm to come to anyone. M’Baku shouted at her again, noting the falter in her step. She was still fighting even if the voices in her head were pushing her to betray her own. He was thankful that Shuri had been able to scramble Muse’s attempt to send out weapons specs. Hanuman had been a saving grace. He called her again. She whipped towards him.

“Let nature take its course! The world is changing!” Her words carried on the wind.

“This is not you! Keep fighting it. Let me help you,” his voice broke.

A grin cracked Muse’s face. “You love her.” All of her movements ceased. “Tell him.”

The mask phased away and M’Baku watched as the life flickered back into Muse’s eyes. Her features softened and she started towards him. He uncloaked his face as well, the freeze immediately settling onto his skin. When she was in arm’s reach, M’Baku pulled her into them. He studied her, pushing wind whipped pieces of hair away from her cheeks.

“I love you, Muse. We’re gonna fight this, okay?”

“I love you. So very much. This isn’t me. Please remember that. Do what you have to. Promise me.” Her fingers feathered across his face like she was trying to memorize him. His eyes closed as he shook his head no.

“Please. Don’t let the world’s memory of me be chaos.”

M’Baku didn’t have a chance to respond before Muse pushed from his grasp and landed a quick and accurate punch combination to his unprotected face. He felt the rush of blood inside his bottom lip. Instinct kicked in and he grabbed her into a crushing bear hug. This time he made sure to avoid a head butt. He squeezed until he felt her going limp in his arms. When his grip loosened, Muse’s body slid from it and she swiped her legs against his ankles. M’Baku crashed into the snow, not moving quickly enough to avoid precise kicks to his ribs and chest. He clasped onto Muse’s ankle and swung her to the ground. She kicked furiously at him and was stunned when a massive hand wrapped itself around her throat.

“Bring her back!” M’Baku roared, his fingers tightening.

Muse’s laughter cackled out from behind the mask.

“Now!” The rise of anger was coursing through his blood. She gripped his wrist, trying in vain to pry him from her throat.

“M’Baku? Please…” The choked sound of his name brought him back from the brink. He released her and sat back on his haunches.

The bright burst of kinetic energy blew him backwards. He watched Muse’s body skid into a large boulder then tumble into a snow drift. He shot after her, determined to subdue her long enough for back up to arrive. His hand reached into the drift, his fingers searching for a piece of Muse to grasp onto. The puncture of his arm sent the entire bank of snow swirling into an abyss below. M’Baku scrambled backwards, seeing for the first time how close to the edge of a cliff he was. Muse. He propelled forward until he felt the ground shift and the heard the clatter of rocks bouncing off the cliff face.

“Muse?!” he shouted into the void as his eyes scanned through the whiteness swirling around him.

***  
M’Baku’s throat was raw. The air around him had snatched every bit of it and carried it off into the world yet his mind would not end its quest to push out his pain. All that remained were scratches and chokes that sometimes formed words, a name. Muse. He struggled against N’Jadaka and T’Challa, doing everything he could to break free and tumble down the rock face after her body. He’d spied her, broken and still at a landing several feet down, and had launched himself after her before two sets of arms hooked beneath his and dragged him from the cusp. M’Baku’s elbows had bucked behind him and caught his captors with crushing force but they hadn’t relented. He felt as if his spirit was draining along with his energy.

He let out one last wounded cry before letting his body go lax. He stared straight ahead, unwilling to answer to the calls of his name nor cooperate with the pull of his men or his friends.

“Leave me,” he managed to vocalize.

He listened to the crunch of the snow behind him, the sets of footsteps fading into the howl of the wind. He knew they were still there, a safe distance back, and was appreciative of their space and their concern. It mattered not. The vision of Muse, her body jagged among the snow would not leave him and would not for as long as he lived.


	9. Chapter 9

The impatient tap of M’Baku’s foot was the loudest sound in the room. It echoed, alongside the tap of his fingers across the tablet in his hands, into the still air around him. It had taken weeks for him to shake himself out of the stupor of losing Muse. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to attend the memorial for her. He hadn’t wanted to see her body nor accept that she was no longer among the living. He’d been able to hear the steady drum beats stretching into the sky and the raised voices of jubilation as they’d celebrated her life. Information had filtered to him that what remained of his Muse had been encased in a Jabari wood urn. An urn that awaited him should he ever chose to retrieve it. Instead, he’d sequestered himself and wallowed in the sweeter memories of her until something in him shattered and he emerged a stone faced man of fury and dogged determination. Noir would pay no matter if it took every bit of his power, influence, and breath.

Across from him, T’Challa and N’Jadaka shared glances that were beginning to grate on his nerves. They’d been doing so since he’d shown up at the Panther clan’s home base a few hours before. He’d barged in, dark circles shadowed beneath his eyes and a scruff of beard thick across his cheeks. Had it not been for the abject pain present in his eyes, M’BaKu was sure he would have felt the sharp ends of spears pressed into his gut. He’d broken every rule of engagement when he’d stormed into the palace and past the cadre of Dora charged with protecting the throne and those on and adjacent to it.

“Is there something that either of you wish to say? I’ve grown tired of your shifting eyes and bated breath,” he growled without looking up. The information in front of him was what he needed to begin his hunt for Akoben and the men and women who were in his employ. This was not about Wakanda and its protection. This was revenge, pure and simple.

“You need to chill,” N’Jadaka proclaimed, reaching for the tablet. M’Baku pulled back with a feral grunt.

“I need to do no such thing. What I need to do is get a lead on Akoben so he can be eradicated.”

“Nah. You need to chill. You look like shit, Bak. No disrespect.”

“Indeed. You aren’t properly caring for yourself. We are simply concerned about you,” T’Challa joined.

“Hanuman will give me strength and see me through. My focus is clear…”

“Avenge your girl, but at what cost? You think Noir is out here half fed and running on fumes? Come on, Bak,” N’Jadaka spat out.

M’Baku put the tablet to sleep and ran a hand over his haggard face. He blew out a breath. “I was so close to having her back in my life. So goddamn close. And they took that from me. Took her from the world.”

He rose and paced the room. “I watched her eyes. She was there, fighting below the surface. She loved me. I saw it,” he whispered.

“And she knew you loved her. She never doubted that,” T’Challa comforted. “But she’d want to you to take care of yourself. We all do.”

M’Baku nodded tightly before turning his attention back to the tablet. “The last known location of Akoben was London. I’m headed there in the morning.”

The cousins shared a pointed look. “Alone?”

“I expected as much. This is my cross to bear. My love to avenge.” He tapped away at the screen.

_Target: Akoben_

_Last known location: London, Covent Garden area_

_Intel: Akoben, current figurehead of Noir and still unnamed, last pinged in the city of London. While an identity has not been definitively proven, a possible physical description has been developed. Target is of African descent, possibly American. Of average height and build, though it should be noted gathered information relays he is an expert marksman despite missing fingertip on right index digit. No other description is available._

_Location was determined by ping match originated in rouge comm device implanted into Jade Capuchin. Location is not exact, but it is valid within a three block radius. No forward movement made on target pending mission guidelines set forth by Black Panther and Golden Jaguar. Involvement of Emerald Silverback is to be determined dependent on grieving process._

***

M’Baku’s knees creaked as he rose from the bed. To his right, the crackle of the fire was an annoyance. Everything was an annoyance and it had been since Muse’s body had tumbled down that rock face and out of his life. When he closed his eyes all that formed was sight of her broken among the snow. It was impossible to sleep. Two weeks of existing on fumes. Darkness had taken up residence both beneath his eyes and in his heart. If, and when, he left his chambers he snapped at those around him and retreated as quickly as possible. He knew he was doing his people a disservice, but he didn’t know how to break out of the sadness nor did he know how to erase the nightmares from his mind.

So, he isolated, taking a leave of absence from the Wakandan General Council and the Jabari Council as well. He did not want to hear about the infighting of the tribes nor making diplomatic promises that rang hollow in the scope of his pain.

He packed slowly, pulling clothing and sundry items from their respective homes and arranging them neatly in a set of well worn leather luggage. A gift from Muse one holiday season. She’d been obsessed with American holidays and he’d indulged her if only to see the light in her eyes. Settling heavily onto the edge of the bed, M’Baku buried his head in his palms. He’d fought tears many nights and an equal amount of mornings. Sometimes he let them flow and others he swallowed them lest he never learn to function again.

The sun crested over the mountains outside of the window, spurning M’Baku to latch the luggage and make his way to a waiting transport plane. He stood on the tarmac, adjusting the fitted suit under the camel colored topcoat. London required refinement and a steady hand. Adjusting his wire framed glasses, he settled into the weight of the necklace beneath his shirt. Tucked into his luggage was Muse’s ring. He needed, wanted, a physical reminder of her with him at all times. At the signal it was time to board, M’Baku took steady steps towards the lowered entry ramp. A hand on his arm stopped him.

“We got you.” N’Jadaka moved shoulder to shoulder with him, clad in a deep gray suit and matching overcoat. T’Challa hung back in expertly tailored onyx attire.

“We may have been lax in keeping you informed in Muse’s troubles, but we loved her as well,” T’Challa intoned as he approached. “She will have her justice. Bast help them all.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended Listening: Planet U by Mereba and Dancing Man by Hus (this song gave me all kinds of revenge spy/covert ops vibes, y’all)

T’Challa and N’Jadaka falling into step next to him gave M’Baku a jolt of confidence he wasn’t aware he’d needed until that very moment. The three of them must have made a sight, powerful and assured Black men with the world at their feet. Still, M’Baku was numb to it all. He hadn’t felt himself since that evening on the mountain, that horrible day that he’d seen the light extinguished from the world. A part of him was still there among the snow, but he knew it was time to get back to the business of his tribe and the nation. In his absence the world had continued to turn and he’d been content to sit on the sidelines watching it with weary eyes. This last bit of mourning was what he needed to cull the sadness into place and jump back into the world. Whatever it took to hunt down Akoben and the rest of Noir, he was willing to do. He was a warrior and he was a hunter. Those two things would serve him well. The men next to him were more than capable of helping him in his cause.

Once the Royal Talon had departed, M’Baku had fallen into a black, dreamless sleep, his body finally relenting and shutting down despite his attempts to remain alert via the strongest Jabari coffee. The last thing he remembered was the crest of the mountains passing beside the ship before his eyes opened again over the city of London. For the first time in the weeks since her death, he did not dream of Muse. Or he thought he hadn’t.

_“You sleep like the dead,” Muse joked from across the room. She was curled in an overstuffed chair next to the bank of windows that let all of Jabariland been seen unobstructed. With her legs tucked beneath her, a file folder open and balanced on her knees, she looked both innocent and intense. It was a combination he’d come to love._

_M’Baku stretched and let out an exaggerated yawn. “I do not. You’re just an impossibly light sleeper. How long have you been up?” He rolled on his side to better see her._

_“A few hours. I had some documents to review. I leave soon.” Her eyes didn’t leave the page, an eyebrow quirked._

_M’Baku bristled. “How long are you going to pretend these trips are simply communication junkets, usana? Just be honest with me.”_

_Muse blew out a burst of frustration. “We’ve had this exact conversation how many times now, Bak? Why don’t you believe me?”_

_He rose from the bed and stalked towards her. He found her undisguised lust attractive, but it wasn’t the time for that. That would come later._

_“Because each time you come back there is another bruise, another scar, another darkness in your eyes. I know your body and spirit, Muse. Something is happening out there. Let me in, please.”_

_She reached out and cupped a hand against his cheek and he melted into her touch. “There is nothing going on. I promise you.”_

“We’ll get our bearings and then start the hunt in the morning. Is that okay with you?” T’Challa questioned.

M’Baku nodded his approval as his eyes scanned the tarmac. A singular black SUV waited for them, a contingent of Dora dressed casually flanked it. He didn’t have to see them to know there were others stationed throughout the airport and the city. They weren’t needed, but protocol was protocol. Settling into the sleek vehicle, M’Baku scanned the tarmac once more before the trio pulled smoothly off the runway and into the bustle of the city.

“You good?” N’Jadaka asked, popping open a bottle of imported lager and handing it across the bank of seats to M’Baku.

“As well as can be expected. You know she loved London.” A wry laugh escaped him as he accepted the bottle. “Loved it so much… I should just be silent.”

“Nah. Let that shit out. I told you we got you. What did she love?”

M’Baku was grateful for the friendship of the two men looking at him with concern. He couldn’t help but to think what would have happened if he’d remained sequestered away in the mountains, what brotherhood he would have missed. He knew that no matter the outcome of this mission, the Udaku cousins would make sure Muse’s death would not be in vain.

“I never really understood. Something about the weather, the sky being overcast. She was weird,” he chuckled almost to himself. “A picky eater who loved the color gray.”

His memories of her spilled out into the car while the miles between the airport and their residence ticked away. The smooth gliding stop of the SUV ended his thoughts.

“She was amazing. It took me too long to recognize that.”

***  
 _The creak of the door opening nor the drop of clothing on the floor or the kick and spray of the shower woke M’Baku. It was oddly a nearly silent hiss of the woman he loved in the bathroom that finally pulled him from sleep. He swung his feet onto the floor and took a moment to shake the last bits of unconsciousness from his brain before making his way to the door illuminated from underneath. He pressed it open with one hand while twisting the knob with the other._

_Muse, nude and partially moisturized, was contorting her body in the large mirror above the double sinks. Her fingers flitted over a large bruise starting to flower over her ribcage. She hissed again and then yelped when M’Baku made his presence known._

_“You wish for me to murder someone?” His growl was feral as he approached her to get a better look at the injury._

_“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said sheepishly. “Go back to bed. I’ll be there in a moment.”_

_“We will not push this aside as we have with these,” he argued as his fingers moved to the small scar at the crux of her hip, another on the inside of her wrist and a final dotting her calf. “You will not continue to wreck your body in secrecy. You tell me or I will find out, usana.”_

_Muse met his eyes in the mirror. “Please let it be, M’Baku. Please,” the final word was a plea barely heard in the quietness of the air around them._

_“I will not. I have been silent entirely too long. If I must go above your head then so be it.” He set his jaw and caged her against the counter with his arms. “You are to be my wife and I will not stand by and watch you injured without known cause or repercussions.”_

_Muse ran a hand down his arm, studied the texture of his skin. “You come back to me bruised and battered as well, love. And each time I help you heal and the world moves forward. Outside of anatomy, what is the difference between you and me?”_

_Her hand came to rest over his heart. “This beats the as mine does. Our tribe, our nation, course through us the same.” She tapped his temple. “We are both smart and resourceful, correct? Why must you question me when I never do so to you?”_

_“Because you know where I go and what that entails. That honesty is the difference. “_

_He watched Muse war with herself for a moment. “I’m a war dog. An agent for this nation and my people by proxy.”_

_“Then you will end this now. No more, Muse. I won’t allow it.”_

_“You don’t dictate that and you have no say. This is my calling and it shall be done.”_

A heavy knock and a shout of Bak! brought M’Baku out of his sleep. This was the second time in twenty-four hours his body had decided it needed to recharge. He was glad for the renewed energy, but it was hard to come back to the world each time. In his mind, Muse was still there. He could feel her, smell her, hear her voice. The “real” world was faded without out. M’Baku pushed himself towards the door. 

“We have a ping. Get yourself together and let’s ride out.”


End file.
